


Approval

by entanglednow



Category: Lost
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-01
Updated: 2010-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:51:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/entanglednow/pseuds/entanglednow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Richard's not too proud to beg.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Approval

When Jacob lays a hand on the side of Richard's face his palm is warm, smooth in a way that always feels so new. Like he comes into existence clean every day.

But for all that he's standing over him, over where Richard's emptied out his bag, there's nothing under the touch. It's not familial, it's perhaps barely an admission of his existence, for all that it's slow and careful.

Richard swallows, because he doesn’t even want familial. He doesn't want that soft touch that feels almost too much like a learned gesture to be comforting.

"Jacob."

He thinks perhaps he wants approval, or indulgence.

Or maybe he simply wants Jacob to touch him because he wants to. To touch him like he means it. When Richard doesn't have to make him feel it first.

"Jacob, please."

Richard can't, he can't unless Jacob gives him permission, can't push, can't lift his hands to touch.

But he's not afraid to beg, he's not too proud.

"Jacob, please, I want -"

Jacob's thumb drifts down, brushes against the curve of his lower lip, warm and slow. One shudder of sensation that feels real.

"What do you want?" Jacob asks quietly, like he doesn't know. Like Richard hasn't made it obvious.

Richard exhales, opens his mouth, just a little, feels the soft edge of Jacob's thumb against his teeth, on his tongue. He closes his mouth around it, sucks gently and Jacob doesn't resist it. He lets it slide deeper and he tastes soft and new and impossible, always.

"Show me what you want," Jacob tells him in that low, rough voice. Which is as much permission as he ever gives.

Richard lifts his hands, sliding the white material of his shirt up, fingertips grazing the warmth of Jacob's bare skin. He finds the waist of his pants and draws the ties open.

He can hear his own breathing, the faint whisper of fabric moving, shifting together. He can't hear Jacob breathing, he never can.

He pulls cloth past the firm, warm edges of Jacob's hipbones, nails on sun-warm flesh. The bare curve of his cock is hot and half hard. Richard's hand moves, touches it, slides his fingers round it and doesn't miss the soft, low noise Jacob makes in response.

Jacob carefully pulls his mouth open with two fingers and Richard exhales, wetly, shakily and leans forward. He lets him push in, lets him slide across his tongue, heavy and solid.

The stone floor is hard under his knees but there's nothing, nothing but the shivery-rough push of heat into his mouth.

Jacob makes a noise, fingers sliding across the stretched curve of Richard's mouth. One of them slides in alongside his cock, brushing the wet length of his tongue, the sharp edges of his teeth. Richard tips his head up and a noise shakes out of him when he's left watching the fascinated softness of Jacob's expression, the way his mouth opens just a little.

One finger becomes two, and fascination goes dark and sharp and greedy. Until Richard has to shut his eyes and the fingers slip free of his mouth, hand catching at the back of his head. Jacob's encouragement is always just a breath away from rough.

Until he presses all the way in, one deep, hard slide that Richard swallows awkwardly around, mouth full and sore and then wet. A slide of fluid against the back of his tongue that leaves him shivering brokenly through his own release, hands tight on Jacob's hips. Half shame and half bliss.

Before Jacob slides slowly free, leaves Richard open, leaves him gasping.

His hands fall and spread on the stone. He's left bent over, breathing past the trembly little aftershocks of his own orgasm.

He barely registers Jacob crouching in front of him. Until he catches his chin with two fingers, lifts his face, presses their mouths together, just briefly, rough edges on the soreness of Richard's lower lip.

"You are very good to me," he says softly.


End file.
